


Coffee Stains

by DesertLily



Series: Fatherhood [4]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Batdad, Batfamily, Bruce is a concerned dad, Bruce is a good dad, Coffee Addiction, Fluff, Gen, Kinda, Tim’s questional self preservation, batbros
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-06
Updated: 2019-11-06
Packaged: 2021-01-24 02:20:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21330655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DesertLily/pseuds/DesertLily
Summary: Tim has a coffee problem. Bruce intervenes.
Relationships: Bruce Wayne & Tim Drake, Tim Drake & Alfred Pennyworth, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson
Series: Fatherhood [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1519229
Comments: 3
Kudos: 212
Collections: Tim Drake





	Coffee Stains

**Author's Note:**

> Half of this was written whilst I was feverous so sorry in advance if it doesn’t make sense

Tim Drake was fine. Really, he was! He was perfectly and absolutely functional. It was something he would swear to anyone who asked as he drank his sixth cup of coffee and approached fifty hours without sleep. It wasn’t that bad! He’d gone longer without sleep before. Besides, as long as he avoided his family then there would be no one to complain about his questionable habits. They _were_ necessary though. He needed to stay up to keep working on his latest case. He needed to stay up to keep up with his Wayne Enterprise paperwork. He needed to stay up to keep going out as Red Robin. Sleeping would just be an inconvenience. Of course, he had had what felt like a million conversations about his ‘bad habits’ - especially after the incident when he had tried to hse Monster Energy on his <strike>Dick’s</strike> cereal instead of milk. As always, Tim just ignored all concerned comments. 

This time, he was supposed to be investigating the Riddler. There had been a series of overly dramatic robberies across the city - with a riddlebeing left at each and every crime scene. They were smarter than Nygma usually was and such robbery was on a much bigger scale - suggesting he either wasn’t working alone or it was a very good imposter. Why someone would want to impersonate the Riddler, Tim wasn’t sure. He certainly wasn’t the most...extravagant member of Batman’s rogue gallery. Still, his psyche was interesting. Tim paused at that. Psychology. He wrote down Harley as possibly collaborating with him. Harleen Quinzel had been drawn in by the Joker’s psychological state. Would she find Edward Nygma just as interesting? Tim wasn’t sure but it was certainly a start. Even if he couldn’t come up with any truly plausible reason for the two of them working together. Perhaps it was just Tim’s sleep deprived brain being desperate to make progress. 

He had long since found alternatives to working in the Batcave. It almost always ended with Bruce or Alfred or one of his other older siblings (and on one occasion, Damian) dragging him to bed. Hence was why he had taken to hiding away when he wanted to avoid sleep. This time he was using one of Jason’s safehouses. He had watched his brother move around enough to deduce that this was the least likely one for him to use for a while. It was the perfect place to hide out. No one ever visited Jason’s safehouses uninvited which lead him to being confident he would be left alone. The safehouses currently look an absolute mess. His Red Robin suit was thrown over a chair and coffee cups lay scattered around the room. Then there was the paper. There was paper _everywhere. _Casenotes were pinned up on the walls, paperwork was sprawled everywhere, and his notebooks all laid open in front of him. To Tim, it was organised mess. To anyone else, it was madness. 

“Even I take breaks sometimes.” A slightly amused voice rang out behind him. Bruce. Well, shit. He couldn’t bring himself to look up as he listened to the man move closer. How had Tim not heard him come in? Oh right, because he was Batman. “You’re working yourself too hard, Tim.” That felt almost hypocritical coming from Bruce. 

Tim waved a dismissive hand at him. “I’ll be fine. I can handle it.” Evidently, that was the wrong thing to say. As he went to go back to work, Bruce slammed his laptop shut. Tim finally looked up at him. 

Bruce looked back with pure concern. “You can’t.” He held his hand up to cut Tim off before he could protest. “When was the last time you ate? Or drank something other than coffee? Hell, Tim! When did you last sleep?!” Bruce rested a hand on his shoulder. “Just come home.” 

Tim shook his head. “But what about the Riddler...? Need...Need to work.” He tried to open his laptop again. Bruce wouldn’t let him. 

“Duke, Cass, and Harper are handling it. They’re more than capable.” Bruce assured him. “You, however, look absolutely exhausted. Just...come home before you collapse. Please.”

”...Fine.”

* * *

Tim passed out in the car on the way back to Wayne Manor. When he woke up, he was tucked in to his bed with what felt like a deadweight latched on to his side. Reluctantly, he pushed open his eyes and recognised it as the form of his oldest brother. Oddly enough, it didn’t surprise him. Dick had always been one to fuss - especially about his siblings. Slowlyand carefully, Tim tried to sneak out of bed without waking him. 

“I’d stay in bed if I were you, Master Timothy.” His gaze fell on the doorway as Alfred walked in, carrying a small tray of food. There went any and all plans of leaving. “You’ve been asleep for over a day and I highly doubt Master Dick is planning on letting you go anytime soon.” A fond smile crossed the old man’s face as he glanced at his ‘grandsons’. “Now, I suggest you try to eat something before resting more. I daresay you’ve had us all worried.” 

Tim managed a small smile. “...Thanks, Alfie.”

* * *

After he had eaten and insisted he was fine for what felt like the millionth time, Dick finally left Tim alone. Sighing, he slumped back in to his bed. Maybe everyone did have a point. Maybe he should rest more. Especially considering how comfy his bed was. Then Tim though about all the work he had left to do and bolted upright. He couldn’t afford to rest!

“Woah. Where’s the fire, Tim?” This time he looked up as Bruce walked fully in to the room. Evidently, he’d been there for a while which caused him to furrow his eyebrows. He was old enough now that it was rare anybody (that he noticed) bothered to check on him in his room. “Dick mentioned you weren’t feeling too great.” Oh. That made sense. 

He rubbed at his eyes - trying to pass himself off as being far more functional than he felt. “Dick has a habit of worrying over nothing.” Tim couldn’t help but point out. From the look Bruce was giving him, it was clear he didn’t even remotely believe him. 

A tight frown formed on the face of his father figure as he moved to sit on the corner of Tim’s bed. “Tim, it’s okay to not be okay sometimes.” Tim wouldn’t meet his eyes as Bruce rested a hand on his arm. “No one expects you to be perfect.”

”I expect me to be perfect.” Tim admitted with a shrug. It was an honest answer. How could he possibly function as Red Robin if his everyday actions weren’t flawless?

He was thrown off his rhythm by Bruce pulling him in to a tight hug. “I don’t, okay? Dick doesn’t. Alfred doesn’t. Cass doesn’t. Even Damian doesn’t! And I don’t think Jason actually has any expectations for any of us.” 

That caused a slight smile to creep on to his face as he returned the hug. “...Thanks, dad.” 

The words caused Bruce to pause before responding with a, “You’re welcome, son.”

It would take Tim a while to see it, but to his family? He was more than good enough. 

**Author's Note:**

> Love it? Hate it? Comments are always appreciated or hmu @ desert-lily on tumblr. Also a short fic for anyone who can guess at exactly which point the feverous writing took over.


End file.
